


testing a theory

by batyatta (atomicwonderwoman)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, F/F, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smoking, they're nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicwonderwoman/pseuds/batyatta
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, Watchpoint is mostly deserted and Angela has to face the fact that her interest in doctor O'Deorain is notpurelyintellectual.





	testing a theory

**Author's Note:**

> It's a Christmas gift for my dear friend [erejeanandreiberts](http://erejeansandreiberts.tumblr.com/). Turned out to be completely self-indulgent.
> 
> Enjoy!

When she entered the lab, she was surprised to find it shrouded in darkness. It was unusual, to say the least, so unlike most instances when the lights were all shining brightly. It was quiet too, safe for the rustling in cages where the lab animals were kept. Silence, though, wasn’t too out of the ordinary - in the short time she’d known doctor O’Deorain, she had learned it was her preferred work mode.

 

She hesitated by the light switch but left it off. There must have been a reason it was like that and she would hate to ruin some experiment just for her own convenience. She walked between the desks and cages, looking for doctor O’Deorain. She was about to give up when she found her outside, bundled in a thick winter jacket and a scarf but she kept her hat off. Probably for the sake of aesthetic more than an actual reason. Maybe she didn't bring one when she moved and didn’t get a chance to buy a replacement. Angela didn’t know much about winter in Ireland but, given the proximity to the sea, they must be much milder than high in the mountains.

 

Trying not to make a sound, she went outside, past the sliding door, to join her, briefly regretting not taking a shawl when she left the med bay. In her defense, she didn't initially plan on going outside but catching a cold would be at the very least inconvenient at this time of the year. On the other hand, she was Swiss. Growing up in the Alps, she developed some resistance. Well, she hoped that was the case.

 

"Greetings, doctor Ziegler" doctor O'Deorain said, without turning. "What brings you out here at this hour?"

 

"Hello," she said and joined her on the ledge. "It's not too late. Barely midnight."

 

"Aren't you supposed to be in peak condition to provide your patients with the best care? Sleep deficiency can hardly be considered beneficial to one’s well being."

 

"Right back at you. Isn't sleep an important factor in mental performance?"

 

“I suppose so,” she nodded pensively. “We are both doomed to failure then."

 

"It’s a good thing that the company is pleasant."

 

She flashed doctor O'Deorain a smile and was surprised to see it returned. It stirred something inside that she hadn’t felt for a long time. Only then she noticed how close they were. Closer than ever before and the angle provided a perfect view of doctor O’Deorain’s heterochromia, piquing her interest. She hadn’t seen a patient with it before, save for that one day on neonatology - and, if her memory served, it was not a good sign.

 

"If I may, is you heterochromia innate or acquired?"

 

“Acquired. Not as a result of a disease, mind you. It’s just a side effect of my research, one of the modifications I wanted to try on myself since it was more for curiosity sake and would be frowned upon if I subjected any other human subject to it.”

 

Angela nodded. It was more extreme than the biotic implants that allowed her the control over wings in her Valkyrie suit, but the drive to see if something  _ could  _ be done, just because she was in a place to make it a reality was all too familiar. Her latest patient was the best example - while he was deep in the medically induced coma and his fate was still uncertain, the rush of trying to keep him alive that kept her up during the long hours in the operating room didn’t leave. It was one of the reasons why she was still up instead of sleeping the last week off, on the one day when she could allow herself to sleep in. Mostly. It may be Christmas Eve and the next day she should have a day off - she’d worked hard enough during her training to be allowed some leeway - but the man in the mad bay, the one who came at the brink of death, the one she had all but dragged back to life, ruined her plans to travel to Sweden with Torbjorn and agent Wilhelm. Not that she was complaining.

 

She knew that, had she left, she would be thinking of him constantly, wondering if the efforts of her team were in vain. That would put a damper on the celebrations, better to stay here, at the Watchpoint. Especially since she could count on good company.

 

“Why aren’t you going back to Ireland for the holidays? Most of the Watchpoint is away.”

 

Doctor O’Deorain ignored her question. She didn’t feel too affronted by that, she already had one personal question answered. To her surprise, doctor O’Deorain fished a cigarette pack out of the pocket of her coat.

 

“Would you mind I smoke in your company?” she asked. Angela shook her head and reached out.

 

“Don’t ever tell Jesse about it” she winked.

 

“Our courageous cowboy wannabe is currently away with Commander Morrison and Reyes celebrating in America. Your secret is safe with me.”

 

The smirk on doctor O’Deorain’s face was supposed to be mischievous, she was sure. It was also doing things to her, stirring the all too familiar warmth in the pit of her belly. Abdomen. She could say that it shot straight for her genitals but that would be admitting that her interest in doctor O’Deorain was not purely intellectual.

 

She took a first drag of the cigarette and reveled in the feeling. It had been years since she last had one and she didn’t want to go back to the habit she kicked back when she was still studying. One little indulgence wouldn’t hurt, not when she had doctor O’Deorain next to her. Her lips were wrapped around the stick and if Angela had any doubts about her growing interest in the geneticist, it was clear at that moment that it was anything but simple admiration of her accomplishments in science.

 

Seeing her relaxed, leaning on the railing with a cigarette in her mouth, her hair mussed by the wind, with her cheeks flushed by the cold, Angela felt her composure crack. Well, it didn’t crack. It was demolished completely and she put out her barely touched cigarette and gently pulled doctor O’Deorain’s - no, Moira’s - one from her lips.

 

“I’ve changed my mind, doctor,” she said and bit her lower lip. “Can’t have us get cancer. It would not be beneficial in the long run.”

 

“Oh,” Moira turned to face her and tilted her head. “And pray tell me, doctor Ziegler, what ‘long run’ do you have in mind?”

 

“I’m not sure” she replied and reached for Moira’s face. “But I’m eager to find out.”

 

For an agonizing second, she thought that she read the situation wrong, that this was all her and she just made an idiot out of herself for assuming too much. However, she was proven wrong when Moira bent down and their lips met. She put her free arm around Moira’s neck, to keep her down and she didn’t resist. The kiss tasted a little like cigarette smoke and coffee she must have had beforehand. She loved every millisecond of it and then, she felt Moira wrap her arms around her waist and pull her closer. She moaned when she squeezed her ass, her nails painfully sharp, even through the clothing.

 

A gust of wind caused her to shiver slightly but it was enough for Moira to break the kiss. The flush looked downright delicious on her pale face and it must have been the first time Angela saw her anything but indifferent. It shouldn’t make her feel so proud but it did.

 

“I shouldn’t have kept you outside for so long, Angela,” Moira said, breathless as Angela was herself. “Please, I must amend to you for that. Perhaps an Irish coffee? To warm you up?”

 

“I have to disagree with you on this one. You see, while alcohol may make me feel warm, it’s a short-term solution at best. Body heat, however. Now, that’s something that could be much more effective.”

 

Moira chuckled.

 

“Do you prefer your quarters or mine?”

 

“I think that yours are closer. Lead the way.”

 

She shot Moira a smile, much bolder than she felt. But Moira took her outstretched hand and all but dragged her to her quarters. They weren’t big, a standard Overwatch issue only in the Blackwatch wing. From the quick look Angela got, it seemed like Moira didn’t keep too many personal belongings but it was much messier than she expected from her. She didn’t get a chance to dwell on it for too long, though. As soon as the door locked behind them and Athena confirmed that the privacy mode was enabled, she had her arms full of Moira and more pressing matters than her decor. Like being pressed to the wall and kissing her senseless, the steadily growing desire expressing fully. Thankfully, Moira had already disposed of her coat and scarf but she was still overdressed for Angela’s taste, which could not do. So, instead of unbuttoning the thin shirt, she ripped it - buttons flew everywhere but that earned her another of Moira’s chuckles, huffed into her lips which she considered a good trade-off.

 

But there was an even better surprise waiting for her underneath the shirt - Moira wasn’t wearing a bra. She pushed her onto her bed and straddled her hips. Seeing Moira like this, at her mercy, breathing heavily was intoxicating. She took off her own coat and threw it away, her top and bra followed.

 

She reassessed the situation. She was sitting on top of her esteemed colleague, who was watching her with clinical interest, like she was another experiment of hers. Her lips were red from the kissing and Angela was pleased to see that Moira flushed with her entire face, down to the tips of her ears and neck. It was nice information to store for later. Now, she bent down and kissed her again, this time taking her sweet time. There was no rush, the hunger was there but it didn’t feel as immediate as before. She hissed when she felt Moira’s cold hands on her hips but it quickly transformed into a moan when she bit her lower lip. The tips of Moira’s nails pressed into her sides and while she did enjoy it, there was one thing that needed to be addressed before they went any further.

 

“Um, Moira?” she was met with a cocked brow. “I’m not letting those nails into my vagina.”

 

“Of course, Angela. We must all make sacrifices in the name of science.”

 

It was the second instance when she said her name and the way she said it, in her deep voice, was quickly becoming one of Angela’s favourite things about Moira.

 

“Are you calling this” she pointed at the two of them, “science?”

 

“Of course. Can you deny the fact that learning what your lover enjoys, how to make them come is not scientific? You are a medical doctor, surely you will agree when I state that, despite the recent developments in medicine, female pleasure is still criminally unresearched?”

 

“Yes, but I'm  _ doctor Ziegler  _ most of the day. Can't we separate work and pleasure in this particular case?”

 

“Does your work not bring you pleasure?”

 

She huffed and lowered herself to whisper, “It does. But right now I want to fuck you, doctor O'Deorain. Don't you?”

 

Moira chuckled. “I sure do, Angela. Prove to me then that this is more than just an experiment”

 

She was insufferable, Angela hated her but at the same time she could not  _ not  _ rise to the challenge so, instead of replying, she kissed her again, this time more purposefully and moved her hands to unzip Moira’s pants. They stopped to pull them down quickly and resumed the kissing. Angela nibbed at Moira’s neck, making her moan but that was not enough. If she were to prove the superiority of her ideas, she had to try harder. So she did just that. When she moved her hand lower, she was pleased to find that Moira was already enjoying their time together if the slickness under her fingers was any indicator. With a devious smile, she trailed kisses down Moira’s neck, over the clavicles to the dip between her breasts.

 

She stopped there and looked at them pensively.

 

“One hand gives, one takes, wasn’t it something like that?” she said and sucked on her right nipple. She grinned against the skin when Moira tensed beneath her and bit which earned her a moan. Still not satisfied with her work, she pinched the left nipple and moved on to the flat stomach, her hands skimming over Moira’s sides. She knew, logically, that Moira was rather thin but now, without clothes, she seemed downright bony. She didn’t mind it, not when she was getting closer to the pubic patch and wow. There was a part of her aware that Moira was a natural redhead and if anything, the freckles that showed up all over her body in the summer only confirmed it. But this kind of confirmation was another pleasant fact to keep on her growing list of Moira’s attractive attributes.  

 

She knelt down, nuzzled at the hair and pressed her tongue. The first lick of taste she got was so good, she needed to get more so she proceeded to gently lick at the folds and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing the clit. When she looked up, she saw just how flushed Moira got, her arms grasping at the covers, nails all but tearing the bedding. The cherry on the cake, however, was the series of gasps and whimpers Moira made as she was eating her out, each louder and more desperate. Angela had to grasp her arm when she tried to push her head further and when she tried that again, she pinned both of her forearms to the mattress.

 

It was intoxicating - feeling her tense and tense, the heartbeat under her fingers, the warmth of her pussy, her taste, all that and yet she was still able to curse, to urge Angela to go harder, faster, her hips bucking involuntarily. She could feel just how close Moira was to the completion and the best thing was that she was close to coming as well, barely touched.

 

With one last strangled cry, Moira came. It was as if all the tension building up got to the breaking point and then it snapped. Moira’s muscles relaxed, her arms went limp in her grasp. Angela let go and lifted herself.

 

“How did you find that, doctor O’Deorain?” she asked.

 

“Acceptable” Moira replied after a pause. “Now can you please come over here? I'm feeling cold, we might as well test your body heat theory.”

 

Angela chuckled and lay beside Moira who wasted no time and kissed her. It was more languid than before, lazy. She took one of Moira’s hands and looked closely. While this may not end up as a one-off incident, she would hate to pass an opportunity to see the biotics up close. And pretend all she may that they were entirely her design, Moira could not fool her. She recognized enough of her work there, afterall she developed the technology behind them.

 

“I’m not sure if I like what you did with my work, Moira,” she said quietly. “It was never supposed to be weaponized.”

 

“You may disagree with my methods, Angela but you cannot deny that they  _ are  _ effective.”

 

“I suppose so.”

 

She kissed the palm and laced their fingers. With a yawn, she snuggled closer. This was an argument for another day. Now she could just stay there, wrapped by Moira and try to sleep off some of her sleep debt.

 

“Goodnight” she whispered. Moira mumbled a response but she was already drifting off. The last thing she remembered before she fell asleep was a featherlight kiss to the crown of her head and the feeling of sharp nails against her scalp.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated 
> 
> I'm still on [tumblr](http://atomiccultistzen.tumblr.com//) and on [twitter](https://twitter.com/batyatta//)


End file.
